


Burning in the Summer, Freezing in the Winter

by emmaliza



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: (but no underage), Allternate Universe - Sugar Momma, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Class Differences, F/F, Flashbacks, New York City, compensated dating, slight age gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 10:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17917229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: Arya sleeps in Dany's bed and eats her food and wears her clothes, but she does not, and will not, need her.





	Burning in the Summer, Freezing in the Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 2 of ASOIAF Rarepair Week, the prompt: Burning/Freezing.

When they first met, she shouldn't have been there, but she's always been good at puppy-eyeing her way into places and the thinks security were thrown for a loop by her self-assurance, figured they were better off letting her in than trying to fight her.

The plan was only to sneak in, eat canapes, get people's details she could use in her next scam and maybe look at some pretty pictures while she was there, but all that got thrown for a loop by just how much bigger everyone seemed than her, how much richer and more important, how they didn't even stop to notice the intruder because she wasn't important enough for that, and she wound up just wanting to hide, and collapsing onto a lush suede couch to get away from it all.

But she did not find herself alone there. “Hello,” said a blonde woman, stunningly gorgeous and a bit tipsy, Arya quickly observed. She did not answer, but people like this don't always need answers, she's learned. “Hiding from it all, huh?” the woman looked sympathetic, which was more than Arya usually got from these people. “Me too.” With a small hiccup, the woman seemed a lots intimidating. “I'm sorry. Most of them are nice, honestly – it's just in collective that they're a nightmare.”

Arya didn't know what to say, and so she didn't say anything. A waiter went past with a jug on a tray, and the woman leaned into her.

“You wouldn't mind fetching me a glass, would you?” asks the woman, and Arya is just about to get incensed – to shout that the rich lady thinks just because she walked in off the street, that means she's her servant – when she spots the wince. “I'm sorry, I wouldn't, I just – it's these fucking heels.” She kicks at the floor bitterly, suddenly looking much younger than she did before – and she already looked pretty young. “I mean, I'm 5'2, I have to wear them if I want anyone to take me seriously, but – I can't fucking walk in them.”

They look at each other, and Arya – herself a short-ass, and so she can relate – bursts out laughing. The woman laughs too, and Arya feels a connection, for the first time in a long time.

* * *

Arya wakes up in this big, soft, cozy bed, wrapped in blankets and listening to snowflakes fall on the window outside, and it feels so familiar that she has to remind herself that this isn't her, this isn't her life, this is all borrowed. But she can't help the smile that comes to her face at the sound of Dany working out downstairs.

She crawls out of bed in an oversized jumper and nothing else, perfectly aware how distracting that will be. When he steps into the gym, Dany almost falls off the treadmill. That makes her laugh.

“You know, part of the point of this is to improve my focus,” she says, turning the machine off with a huff. Arya just shrugs.

“I'd rather you were focused on me,” she says instinctively, and then bites her tongue, afraid she might have pushed too far.

“Brat,” Dany tells her, walking over to peck her on the lips. Really, thinks Arya, but she appreciates the kiss – it's nice kissing someone she doesn't have to strain her neck to reach. “I suppose you want breakfast now, is that it?”

Arya grins at her. “Well, I could try cooking it myself, but I like this apartment, I don't wanna burn it down.”

* * *

She googled Daenerys Targaryen as soon as she got home from the party, not long after getting her number. Maybe she shouldn't have been surprised by what she found – Daenerys Targaryen, bigshot CEO of the family company at only twenty six. Daenerys Targaryen, who defied all expectations of being just a pretty face to take her business to heights it'd never seen before. Daenerys Targaryen, renowned philanthropist, feminist, and general maker of such a good attempt at seeming cool you can forget how fucking rich she is.

The plan was to scam the woman for whatever she could and then get the hell out of dodge before the lawyers came after her, but when Arya got the call inviting her out for coffee, things changed. Daenerys – Dany, as she was soon asked to call her – looked nervous, and Arya couldn't help but find it really endearing, the thought of this corporate high-flyer being nervous about a first date, with her, of all people. She didn't like talking about her work, Arya soon realised. She much more preferred talking about charity, her attempts to stamp out sex trafficking worldwide, that sort of thing. Arya wasn't sure she bought it, it sounded a bit like a rich person trying to buy away their guilt, but – well, better that than not, right?

She found herself really liking Dany, strong and sassy and slightly insecure, and not so unlike her, really. She found herself liking the woman enough to feel guilty for thinking off ripping her off, and that unsettled her, because she knows that's a feeling she can't afford to have.

Arya won't pretend she wasn't easy. Two dates later Dany asked her back to her apartment – her penthouse apartment – and she accepted eagerly, telling herself: well, might as well see how the other half live.

* * *

Dany makes one of her acai-and-quinoa smoothies that rich people love, but it's actually pretty tasty, which probably means it isn't as healthy as Dany thinks it is, but Arya isn't going to complain. She sucks it through a straw, making eyes at Dany all the while, which makes the older woman blush. “Stop that,” she says. “You and your goddamn Lolita routine.”

Arya laughs. She's almost twenty, but who's counting. “It's only annoying because you like it,” she says, but she drinks more normally after that. Dany sighs.

“I wish I could stay,” she says. “But I've got business meetings. You know how it is.” Arya nods. She does know. Frankly, she doesn't know why Dany doesn't quit and live off savings the rest of her life – but that's not her, she always needs to feel like she's doing something. “Will you be alright here, on your own?”

“Yeah?” Arya says, skeptical. She's often here on her own, she barely goes back to her own place at all these days. She pretends that doesn't worry her. “Play video games, watch Netflix, whatever.” And run her eBay and Craiglist scams, really petty, unromantic forms of crime, but still, she's got to keep her foot in the door. Dany doesn't know about all that. She seems firmly in denial about how Arya makes a living, and maybe she thinks Arya just lives off her now. “You know me, I look after myself.”

Dany smiles, and Arya suspects that's part of what she likes about her, that she can look after herself. “I just don't like leaving you alone all day,” she says, and Arya is almost offended by being treated like a pet, but then Dany laughs. “You're absolutely the type to tear up my curtains and shit on the rugs when I'm gone.”

Arya flicks a bit of smoothie on her with her straw in protest, and Dany keeps laughing, knowing her all too well.

* * *

The first time Dany ever visited her flat, she was aghast. “You can't possibly live like this,” she said. “You'll freeze in the winter!”

Arya looked over to the radiator which had been busted for months now, and she had long since given up on ever being repaired. “I've got blankets,” she said. Her flat was mouldy and had rats in the walls and only one of the lights still worked, but it was cheap and the landlord had never once tried to put his hands on her, which was all she needed, really.

Dany glared, and then sighed. “You should let me help you find somewhere else,” she said. “I've got the money for a deposit–”

“No.”

Daenerys looked caught off-guard by the vehemence with which she said it, but Arya meant it. At that point they'd been seeing each other long enough that she'd let Dany buy her meals, buy her clothes, buy her jewellery, but she would not let the woman buy her a fucking home. That would be incurring a debt she knew she couldn't pay back, and Arya's always hated being in debt. _This isn't forever_ , she had to remind herself. _I'm not her fucking wife_.

Luckily, they'd also been seeing each other long enough that Dany knew how pointless it was to argue with her when she had her mind set on something, and so she just chewed her tongue. “I don't suppose you'd let me pay your rent this month either?”

But that, Arya was okay with. Her rent was the same month after month, and so if Dany took care of her once, she'd only have to take care of herself later. She still knew how to do that.

After that incident, she found herself spending a lot more time in Dany's huge apartment. Dany wouldn't let her go, whenever Arya said she needed to get back home, Dany would say no, stay, help yourself; I have to go but there's plenty here for you. And Arya, she sunk into it. She knew it was a bad idea but she couldn't resist the thought of someone offering her their home.

* * *

“Arya? Could you go find my blue folder?”

She looked up from lying on Dany's bed while Dany dressed for work, wondering if she could sneak in a quickie before the other woman had to go, and nodded. Dany has all sorts of folders, which Arya quickly gathered comes with the terrain of being a high-powered businesswoman, but she's familiar with the blue one. She tried reading it once, trying to prove she was just as smart, but it went straight over her head.

As she enters the study she stops to smile and wave at Dany' lizards. She loves those fucking lizards, is devoted to them, and Arya reminds herself not to be jealous: one, because they're fucking lizards, and two, because it's not like what she and Dany have is anything permanent. Surely it's a good thing Dany has pets to take comfort in once things inevitably fall apart?

That done with, she opens the file cabinet and finds the blue folder, as requested. And that would be that, but then she goes and finds a bright yellow check tucked underneath.

* * *

“Ow,” she pouted as she lay face down on Dany's bed, sulking. She thought it was a stupid idea when Dany insisted they were going to have a fun day out at the beach, taking the train all the way to the coast. She had fun at the time, splashing in the water and casually kissing on the sand, but she forgot about sunscreen. Dany didn't. Now she was burnt and Dany wasn't, and Dany was having way too much fun laughing at her over the fact.

“Hang on,” she said once Arya had pouted long enough. “Let me put some aloe vera on you.”

It was the crack of dawn, because Dany always gets up at the crack of dawn, and Arya usually wakes up with her, although she falls back asleep once she's gone. As Dany crouched over her back and rubbed the lotion into her, she thought: _this is nice_. She liked it. She liked having Dany take care of her.

It was a bad thought to have, but at the time she was too sleepy to fight it.

Once Dany was done, she leaned down to whisper in Arya's ear: “I have to get to work.”

She got up off the bed, adjusting her blouse, while Arya made a protesting noise. “Hang on,” she said. “I thought we were going to fuck?”

“I'd love to, really,” said Dany, “but I don't have time.” Arya pushed herself up off the bed to stare at her in confusion, and Dany looked equally confused. “What, is it so strange to you that I might just want to make you feel better?”

Arya blinked.

_Yes, that is strange_ , but she didn't want to admit it. Dany chuckled and walks over to kiss her goodbye. “Once I get home, promise,” she said, and once she was gone, Arya groaned and buried her head in the soft linen sheets.  _I'm in way too deep._

* * *

Maybe she shouldn't notice, maybe she should assume it's just another business thing, but her innate curiosity gets the better of her. She grabs the folder and the check, and while she hands one over she holds onto the other. “What is this?” she asks, staring at the numbers – twenty thousand, she thinks; but she's not seen that many zeroes together in a long time, so who knows? “Someone you need to pay off, Dany?”

And Dany looks up, uncomfortable, shuffling from side to side on her too-tall heels. “Uh, no,” she admits. “I meant to talk to you about that.”

Arya darts the check down to her side. “Is this for me?” she asks, and she shouldn't be offended – she knows what she's being doing, living off Dany's dollar, letting her buy her clothes, food, space to live in, so why shouldn't Dany assume all she's after is payment? “Is that what you think I am, your whore? Do you think you can buy me?”

She's done bad things to get by over the years, but she's always been too proud to sell her body. Hasn't she?

“What, no!” Dany answers, sounding just as affronted as she is. That throws Arya. “I'm not paying you for anything,” she says. “I want to help you. So – so you can go home. That's what you want, isn't it?”

* * *

She was staring out Dany's window, looking across the New York skyline in the dark. It's beautiful, from afar anyway.

Arms wrap around her middle. “What are you thinking about?” Dany whispered in her ear, still orgasm-high and clearly feeling no need to hide it.

Arya shuddered. Fuck, she thought she was asleep. “Home,” she answered before she remembers that she really, really didn't mean to talk about that. She's stuck to that strategy since she was eleven years old, why would she go astray now?

Dany paused, her grip tightening. “Where are you from, anyway?” she asked, trying to sound casual. “You've never told me.”

_There's a reason for that._ Arya never told anyone that, afraid of giving them too much information about her, but with Dany's arms around her she couldn't help slipping. “Midwest,” she says. “Real Everytown, USA. My dad was the mayor and everything.”

She felt Dany tilt her head to the side curiously. She knew the woman must have always assumed she was born on the streets or something, and she shouldn't have explained, but she couldn't help herself. “Before they had him put away on corruption charges.” She laughed bitterly. “My dad, the most honest man in the world! They were the corrupt ones, of course, the people who did that to him. But he died in there, of course...” she trailed off. She hadn't cried over this in years, she wouldn't let herself show anybody weakness, but with Dany's arms around her, the tears just began to fall. “And they said my mom was crazy because she wouldn't shut up, had her carted off, had us separated... Knocked me from foster home to foster home, until...”

Until she made a run for it, off to the big smoke. Still poor and hungry and hurt, but at least free.

“...I'm so sorry,” Dany whispered after a painful silence, and that made Arya sob. “That shouldn't have happened. I wish I could...” she never finished that sentence, just kept holding on.

“Sometimes I want to go back there,” Arya choked out, her voice broken. “I know there's nothing, but if – if I could find them, if I knew what happened...”

Dany kissed her neck and rubbed her belly and slowly, guided her back to bed. The thing is, it made Arya feel better. It makes her feel like there was someone waiting for her.

* * *

“...I would rather you came back after,” Dany admits. “But you don't have to.” And with a heavy sigh, she straightens her back. “Arya, I just – I just want to help you,” she says. “I want you to be with your family. I want you to have your home back. I want you to have everything you've ever wanted. Because I care about you.” She pauses, her mouth quirking to the side. “I love you.”

Arya stares, gobsmacked. The thing is, she believes it. She really does believe this woman – beautiful, funny, worried, too rich for her own good – cares about her, enough to give her up. She thinks Dany would be glad to never see her again, if she thought that would make Arya happier. She thinks Dany loves her, and what the fuck is she meant to do with that?

She could let it happen. She could let Daenerys Targaryen be her protector, her mentor, her guide; the person who will help her find her family and stay by her side after, the one person she will let take care of her.

Or, she could take the money and run.

So which is it?


End file.
